


The Rule Where Falling Asleep Isn't Sleeping

by scribblemyname



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Battlefield, F/M, Friends to more, Kisses, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Sleeping, Romantic Fluff, maybe not so platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/scribblemyname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't want to sleep with her, and falling asleep together totally doesn't count.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rule Where Falling Asleep Isn't Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FreshBrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/gifts).



_"Why me?"_

_"Because I don't want to sleep with you?"_

She'd sounded uncertain when she responded, even if she seemed to agree.

_"I will never lie to you, Kate. Otherwise, what's the point?"_

 

 

It wasn't a lie. it just was phrased very, very carefully. I don't want to want you because—

Because Bobbi. Because Natasha. Because Jess. Because he wasn't good enough and he hurt the people he fell in love with because that's what Bartons did, and every time he tried to be someone else, it just didn't pan out for his relationships.

Kate wasn't just a girl he could fall in love with. She was Hawkeye, like the other part of himself, and he wanted better for her than what he ever had.

 

 

They hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch together. Clint was _finally_ catching his season finale and didn't take no for an answer when Kate protested him crashing onto said couch where she'd been enjoying pizza and teasing Lucky.

"Clint!"

"Lucky's a great pillow."

"Lucky's using _me_ for a pillow and the two of you together are too heavy."

Somehow they ended up rearranging until it worked, but not without plenty of grumbling from the Kate Bishop half of Hawkeye. They'd succeeded too well in fact, and that's why they woke up together on Clint's couch, his head on her hip, his cell phone blaring at her ear from the side table with Lucky singing the chorus in the middle of the living room.

His head was on her hip and she was soft and muttering sleepily, her fingers tightening against his arm. He blinked and made himself wake up enough to ignore how comfortable it was, ignore the way her hand felt like she didn't want him to move anymore than he did, and right. Phone.

Clint groggily sat up and reached across a once-again grumbling Kate to read the message.

"Aww, downtown. No."

Kate sat up behind him so they weren't touching any more and rolled her eyes. "Again."

At least he hadn't just sat down to eat, and backup wasn't exactly hard to find. "Hey, Hawkeye? Want to go chase down evil robots?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

 

 

Falling asleep together didn't count as sleeping together. It didn't.

Even if it was warm and sweet and precious and the last time he'd slept that well, he'd been married.

 

 

"Why did I agree to fight evil robots with you again?" Kate demanded, back to his back, arrows flying off their bows at a rate that boded well for the overall supply.

And the robots just kept coming and coming, overall supply clearly not in distress.

"Because it's fun," Clint shouted back, grin on his face despite the danger and their being surrounded by potentially hundreds or thousands of evil robots.

The other Avengers were scattered over the battlefield of downtown, stopping the worst of the damage to civilian property and lives. Someone had done a good job of evacuating before things got bad. And they always got bad.

"Hawkeye." Kate's voice was tight.

Clint glanced around a little more carefully. "Yeah?"

"That robot that's flying has red glowing eyes pointed right at us."

He looked up. "Time to relocate." He grabbed Kate and rolled just in time to find out that some very special robots had laser fire. "Nice."

 

 

They ran out of arrows—twice. Clint would gather some up and toss them to her so she could cover him while he restocked both their quivers. They'd switch off.

Eventually—and by eventually, really he meant after almost seventy-two non-stop tedious, back-breaking, tongue-wearing hours ("It's not our fault, Clint, you never shut up")—they beat back the robots and saved the day.

Kate started to droop almost before they were safely on the jet.

 

 

"'M not sleepy," Kate slurred out as Clint hauled her into his apartment. One of her arms was slung over his shoulder halfheartedly, but otherwise, she made no effort to support her own weight as he carried her in.

He just snorted at her in disbelief. "Sure thing, Hawkeye."

"Hmmph." But there wasn't much heat in it as the sound faded off in her drift toward sleep. "You're comfy," she murmured.

He'd tuck her in on the couch, but she'd already made pretty clear how she felt about that. Lady gets the bed, his apartment or no. Just they were both not just sleepy or tired but _exhausted_ after a fight that went on just plain too _long_. The couch was near and inviting and Clint made sure he didn't fall on her as he stumbled onto for just a moment, just a…

 

 

Clint didn't wake up just a moment later. The evening dark had been replaced by morning light slipping between the curtains, and half of his limbs were asleep because… Kate. He was tangled up in Kate on his couch, and suddenly he was very much awake.

He'd screwed up so much in his life, every woman he'd ever been in love with, every chance he'd ever had at something good and his and what in the world was he doing falling asleep tangled up in _Kate_ on his couch? He watched her wake up, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes and looking like she was wondering the same thing.

Her hand was snug behind his head and his hand was on her hip, and he was swallowing hard because everything was too warm and sweet and perfect and he was going to screw this up too and—

She was looking at him like he was looking at her, eyes uncertain, fingers flexing hesitantly on his skin where his shirt had ridden up a bit.

Then she was kissing him. Katie-Kate, Hawkeye, 'I don't want to sleep with you either' friend and partner and the girl he couldn't quite live without was kissing him.

She dropped her head back, looking embarrassed. "Sorry. Um, yeah. I know you didn't want me to do that—" It's not like he'd kissed her back and this was so awkward.

"Um. Clint?"

Awkward, right. His eyes flew up from her mouth to look at the nervous look in her eyes. He felt her tense beneath him, ready to shift off the couch. And he knew this was a bad idea—it _was_. He was a bad idea for her, but she'd kissed him, and he found himself leaning down and cutting off her startled 'umph' with another kiss.

He kissed her like he meant it because he did and then he pulled away because bad idea, _bad_ idea, but Kate's arm flung out to catch him and hold him before he could run.

"Don’t you dare run," she snapped, anger warring with vulnerability on her face.

He stared at her. She stared at him.

She softened and reached up more tentatively one more time. It felt good, _she_ felt good, and she wanted him even though she knew exactly how much of a wreck he could make of his personal life.

"Kate." He pulled her close, and they just kept kissing and kept holding on and let the morning go on without them.


End file.
